Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men characters or anything else cleverly already owned by Marvel (who is now subsequently owned by Disney O.o). The OCs are mine though.

Setting: Crossover between X-Men: Evolution and Wolverine and the X-Men. The X-Men (Jean, Scott, Kurt, Kitty, etc.) are all teens, but this story is set in the latter's time period. So we're going to encounter MRD and all their fun friends.

A/N: Mucho thanks goes out to my beta, Darknessslayer0, since this story was stuck in my head for the longest time but he helped me make it real. So thanks, love ya! Also, I realize most people who read my stories expected a CSI fic to be published instead of a random X-men one, but I wanted to change it up a bit so here this one is. I still plan on writing another CSI fic, though, so don't completely flip out on me just yet.

In regard to this one, it probably sucks since I haven't really watched a lot of either series so some things may be wrong, but I at least tried.

Chapter 1: Breaking Out!

Soldiers were regularly making their rounds past the long halls of holding cells, each holding anywhere from none to three people. Though, these people weren't people; they were mutants. This facility was one of many that were popping up in major cities to help the MRD [Mutant Response Division] deal with the "mutant menace" that was apparently taking over the United States. This particular MRD containment facility happened to be located in Nevada, specifically right south of Las Vegas.

In one of the holding cells sat two normal-looking teenagers: one, a female, was sitting on the only bed in the cell, her hands tucked behind her head and resting against the wall. One of her black boots was also on the bed, and her eyes were closed. She wore torn black jeans and a zipped up black and dark blue motorcycle jacket that showed some of her midriff at some points. Her right hand had a fingerless glove on it, and her blond-highlighted medium length hair was black and up in a ponytail.

The male, who was sprawled out on the floor beneath her, also wore torn black jeans and a dark gray shirt that said "Moo" on the front. His long dark brown hair hung into his face, covering mostly the right side, and he had a black pair of Converse™ tennis shoes on. Over his shirt hung a dark red unzipped vest and his left hand had the matching fingerless glove to his friend's.

Both had somehow gotten their hands on some Budweiser, and happily obliged in getting rid of it. Sure, they were underage but they didn't care; while they weren't delinquents, they weren't any goody-two-shoes either. The female had recently given up smoking, which she was not of legal age to do either, per the request of her friend.

"I hate this bed," she complained. The male sighed, but she continued, "It's too damn hard."

"At least you have a bed."

"Thanks for making me feel like the jerk," she admonished, receiving another sigh from her friend. Randomly a little while later, a soldier came up to the barrier/door and called to them.

"Hey, freaks," the female lazily cracked open an eye, and the male sat up sluggishly and burped up the beer he'd recently had to acknowledge they heard him.

"I prefer to be addressed by 'Jew'." She told him derisively. "Then again, Auschwitz wasn't outfitted with such shiny, news digs."

"This is not Auschwitz." The man crossly argued.

"Yeah." She frowned arguably. "Let me phone God; I think he's missing a few hundred angels. They're been busy down here building heaven on earth."

"You think somebody would've noticed by now," the male mentioned to his cellmate.

"Well, these angels elusive and hidden," she explained as if the guard wasn't standing there listening. "They're the ones cleverly disguised as present-day Nazis."

"Here's your dinner," he irately said, sliding them two trays and not bothering to try and not spill the food.

"Hey, Julio, where's my chicken fried chicken?" he asked mock-seriously.

"My name is John,"

"What the hell makes you think we care?" the female asked, obviously uninterested in the food.

"Look bitch," he began. "Don't make me report you to my boss; he'll have you two out of here before you can say 'MRD'."

"Oh, you're just mad 'cause a couple of teenage mutants can beat you in a drinking contest," she replied dryly, closing her eye. John glared at the two before moving on, presumably to go bother some of the other mutants while delivering their dinners.

"Alex," the male said.

"What, Terrence?" she answered, not moving a muscle.

"You've got to learn not to aggravate the guards."

"They're the ones who come over talkin' to me. It's not my fault they're all idiots."

"You're unbelievable." Terrence stated, smiling at his friend's remark. He glanced at the covered food and then back at Alex.

"You about ready to get out of here?" he asked quietly.

"I'm ready when you are; we've already been here for…"

"…a week."

"Yeah, and besides, tonight's menu doesn't look all that appetizing." Alex added.

"You say that like it ever looks appetizing." Terrence replied, standing up. She did the same.

"I meant tonight the food might actually fight back when you try to eat it," Alex clarified, "sometimes we're lucky enough to get something that's already dead."

"You have a point."

"Don't I always?" she smiled sweetly at him as she walked to the electrified barrier blocking their escape. Terrence couldn't help but smile back at her as she lifted her hands out and above her head. Soon, the lights around their and other cells began flickering, and the barrier seemed to be malfunctioning. Then everything seemed to shut off… save the eerie red light and blaring siren that followed soon afterward.

"After you," she told Terrence.

"Why, thank you," he went along. Terrence went out into the deserted hallway and looked down both ways, waiting for the soldiers that were sure to be there soon.

"Do you remember which way is out?" she asked.

"Not really," he confessed. "This place all looks the same to me."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

"I think MRD needs a new interior designer." Terrence suggested.

"I think MRD needs to stop building mutant containment facilities."

"That too," he agreed. "Well, we could try and ask for directions.."

"Yeah, that'll go well. 'Hi, sir, would you be kind enough to show a couple of prisoners which way is the exit?'"

"Well of course that wouldn't work," he replied, rolling his eyes, "telling him we're prisoners is sure to get us caught."

"Hold it right there you two!" they heard someone yell at them. The duo turned around and found themselves face to face with a squad of angry, armed guards, all aiming their weapons at them.

"Hm. Their response time seems to have improved dramatically.." Alex pointed out quietly.

"Well, I'm sure they know about us and our habits." Terrence whispered back.

"You give them more credit than I do." She said with a disapproving sideways glance.

"Hey! Stop talking!" An obvious rookie shouted. The teens glanced at each other, silently asking a question: Do you want to take them out, or should I? The soldiers started to slowly advance towards them, and Alex stepped in front of her friend.

"Alright, you punks," She said with a sinister smirk; she clapped her hands and rubbed them together, smirking again when the guards backed away. Her hands suddenly glowed a bright white and electricity shot from her first two fingers on both hands, hitting the row of fire sprinklers on the ceiling. All the soldiers screamed in surprise because of the sudden intrusion of water, creating a path for them down the middle.

"Showoff," Terrence mumbled. Alex smirked at him over her shoulder.

"Shut up and come on," she said, starting to run through the sea of preoccupied soldiers. The duo rounded several corners and busted through a pair of double doors, only to find themselves surrounded by more soldiers.

"Where the hell do they find all these guys?" Terrence asked, annoyed. "1-800-GET-GUNS?"

"Can we, uh, worry about that later?" Alex asked. He quickly glanced at her, and then back at their opponents. Suddenly a rumbling filled the room, followed shortly by a loud explosion to their right. The wall was revealed to have a hole in it, and through it came a small band of people. The first one that appeared had to be at least six feet tall, with a very muscular body. The other two appeared to be twins, of average build and height. The entire room grew quiet, and everyone just stared at each other.

"More mutants!" someone finally yelled. "Get 'em!" Shots began to be fired at the new group, as well as a few in Alex and Terrence' direction. The latter swiftly knelt down and touched the ground, and the ground in front of the two sprouted up in the form of an enormous wall.

"Matter bonding sure comes in handy," Alex approved.

"I'll say!" Terrence replied. "Now let's get out of here."

"Right. I'll distract them!" She determinedly nodded, and ran around the wall. He reached to stop her, but he was too slow.

"Damnit, that's not what I meant," Terrence said out loud, hearing the shots being fired at her. He touched the wall and it transformed into a large, metal sledgehammer. Terrence found his friend bouncing on top of the soldiers' heads, leaping from one helmet to the next. "Alex, what are you doing?"

"Distracting them!" She shakily did a handstand on a soldier's head as she spoke to him. The surrounding guards looked up at her, too surprised to get in a good shot at her.

"I thought you meant the other distract…oh forget it." Terrence started taking out the closest soldiers with the sledgehammer, and as he got to the one she was balancing on, Alex bounced to another soldier, and then another, and another. This went on until the last one, when she leaped into the air and flipped over the incoming sledgehammer. Alex nimbly landed on her feet in a kneeling position, and stood up when one of the mutants from the other group called to them.

"You two are amazing!" the muscle head admired.

"Thanks," Terrence said, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

"Do you guys do your own choreography?" one of the twins asked, startled at their ability to work so well together.

"Chore..ography?" Alex repeated, confused.

"Yeah, your moves! They were flawless as if you'd had practiced them." The twin explained. The two gave each other a puzzled look. Then the female shrugged.

"We don't…plan anything," she told them.

"We just make it up as we go along."

"That's even more incredible!" they all complemented.

"If I knew we were going to be famous, I would have brought headshots." Terrence nervously laughed.

"You're so full of yourself," Alex scolded as she walked away, stepping over the sea of unconscious guards. The bad thing was, Terrence couldn't tell if she was kidding or not.

"Alex? Hey," he called, uncertainly glancing between his retreating friend and the trio, "you're not serious, right? Right? Alex?"

After a few more encounters with smaller bands of guards, the five teens made it to their destination: the hangar. The group was surrounded by tanks, jeeps, helicopters, motorcycles, and weapons galore. MRD personnel apparently kept all their vehicles and supplies in one, easy-to-access location in case they had to go out and round up some mutants.

"Well, who here can drive?" the tallest teen asked.

"Who cares?" Alex ignorantly answered, walking into the room, looking like she was shopping for a vehicle. Terrence apologized for his friend's coldness and advised them.

"Legality's not a real big issue with her," he informed them. "I assume none of you have driven before?" The three shook their heads. "I suggest you all carpool in one of the jeeps, then. Who's the oldest?"

"I am," a twin said. Terrence nodded.

"It's real easy to learn. Come watch me for a sec." he ordered. While Terrence was with the other three, Alex moved about the hangar surveying potential escape vehicles. She had briefly considered jumping in one of the helicopters, but seeing as though she wanted to live long enough to escape the grounds she quickly dismissed the idea. The teen deviously smirked when she found the right vehicle.

"If you're done with driver's ed, we need to go!" Alex shouted, climbing on a black and dark gray motorcycle with the letters 'MRD' in blood red on each side. Soon, Terrence appeared from around a helicopter and jogged over to her.

"We're ready; I-" he cut himself off, stunned at what she was sitting on, "Alex, why are you on a motorcycle?"

"'Cause while flying a helicopter is faster, actually flying it seems considerably harder than depicted in Ace Combat 4."

"You only fly planes in that game.." he slowly pointed out, climbing on a bike identical to hers.

"My point exactly," she said, starting the engine with the conveniently placed keys already in the ignition. Alex impishly revved the engine, grinning wildly when she leaned forward as the bike inched forward through the other vehicles and to the hangar door controls. Terrence warily regarded her, now believing putting her on a bike might have been a bad idea. He started his own bike, and signaled to the others who had climbed into one of the jeeps to follow them.

"We're good to go, Alex!" Terrence called, giving her a wave. The large doors in front of them promptly began to open, revealing the outside of the facility and searchlights floating all around, hoping to find some escapees. As soon as the doors were open enough, the group burst through: first Alex, going to take out a few of the straggling soldiers that had reported to the door opening strangely; next was the jeep with the three younger teens in it that barreled past her; and bringing up the rear was Terrence, though he soon slowed to let Alex catch up to him. The duo sped through the broken down gate and followed the trail of dirt left from the jeep.